A Modern Day Courtship
by Melissa Black13
Summary: A collection of drabbles highlighting Emma and Killian's struggle to navigate through 21st century dating. Drabbles will not necessarily be in chronological order. Ch. 5: Can Killian convince Emma to forgive him after their fight?
1. the key

**characters: **emma swan, killian jones  
**words: **900  
**summary: **emma gives killian a key to her apartment.

**a/n:** _a modern day courtship_ will be a collection of drabbles centered on emma and killian navigating through 21st century dating. i have lots of ideas, but i'm definitely open to hearing from you guys if you have some of your own. let me know! :)

**the key**

"So, don't, like, make a big deal out of this or anything, but I have something for you," Emma said one day to Killian as they were getting a bite to eat at Granny's.

"It's not another one of those cellyfone things, is it?" he asked, eyeing her warily.

"No, not after what you did with the last one," she said dryly. Who knew texting would be so hard with a hook for a hand? "No, you'll actually know how to use this."

Emma reached into her bag, found what she was looking for, and slowly slid it across the table, watching his reaction intently. He stared at the object for a long moment, cocking his head to the side, before looking back at her, the cutest confused expression on his face, and _damn it_, she'd really been hoping she wouldn't have to explain this one to him.

"It's a key," he stated with no small amount of uncertainty. His brow was furrowed adorably and Emma had to restrain herself from reaching across the booth and smooth it out. "I'm sorry, darling, I fail to see the significance."

"It's not just any key," Emma stressed, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. If the town gossips, namely Ruby, got word of this, she'd never hear the end of it. "It's a key to my apartment."

Silence. He stared blankly at her and it felt like she was speaking a different language, which, well, maybe she was. "I see," he said finally, but it was clear that he didn't.

And even though she'd warned him not to make a big deal out of it, she allowed herself to feel a little disappointed. She'd wanted some sort of reaction because, hello, this was_ major_! She had never given a guy the key to her apartment before, had never wanted to let them into her life beyond casual dating and one night stands. A key to her apartment was a _huge_ deal for someone like her who'd spent the better part of her adult life alone, shutting people out.

She and Killian had been dating for the better part of a year now, though, and she'd never imagined she could possibly be this happy. Emma couldn't explain it, but the two of them just fit together perfectly in every way. They challenged each other, supported one another, and she'd never felt so loved or cherished in her whole life. Once Mary Margaret and David had moved into their own place, Killian had become a frequent guest at the loft, staying over more nights than not; he even had his own drawer in her room, which had been a whole nother conversation. Giving him a key of his own had seemed like the next logical step.

"I've upset you," he said, worry lines creasing his forehead. "This is another one of those modern courtship rituals that I don't understand, yes? Like the toothbrush thing?"

An amused snort escaped her. "Kind of," Emma told him. She took a deep breath. "In terms of 21st century dating, giving someone a key to your place is, well, huge. It's more symbolic than anything, I guess. It says: I love you, I trust you, I want to take our relationship to the next level. I've, well, I've never given anyone the key to my apartment," she added, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"Not even Baelfire?" he asked quietly, watching her intently in that way that always made her feel like he could see right through her.

Emma just shook her head. She didn't want to explain that she in Neal had spent more time living in their car than in an actual apartment.

Killian's eyebrows went up to his hairline as he processed that, and his eyes were wide with awe as he looked from her to the key again, and yes, thank you, that was the reaction she had been looking for.

"And now you've chosen me to be the recipient," he said carefully, as if she was going to take it back.

"Well, my other boyfriend was out of town this week so…"

"We're having a moment here, Swan, don't ruin it," Killian chastised half-heartedly, his blossoming smile nearly blinding her. He sobered up for a moment, sliding his hand across the table to grasp hers. "I'm honored, love, truly I am. Thank you."

"It's just a key," Emma said with an anxious shrug, suddenly trying to play it cool.

Killian smiled again. "Of course it is," he conceded, and she loved that he knew so well when to push her and when to hold back.

He really was such a good sport about everything. "It certainly doesn't mean I actually like you or anything," she quipped, playfully stealing some whip cream off the top of her hot chocolate and popping it in her mouth.

"Oh, I would never dare to presume such a thing, love."

She laughed at that, shaking her head at him fondly and entwining their fingers together.

"I wish I had something to give you in return, Emma," Killian said, drawing their hands up to press a kiss to the back of her palm. "But seeing as you've already stolen the key to my heart, I'll call it even."

When he said things like that, she couldn't keep her heart from fluttering or the schoolgirl blush from rising to her cheeks.

"You are so corny. Do you even hear yourself?"

"You love it."

He was right, of course. She did.


	2. the tie on the door

**characters: **emma swan, killian jones  
**words: **900  
**summary: **emma and hook face a setback.

**a/n:** _a modern day courtship_ will be a collection of non-sequential drabbles centered on emma and killian navigating through 21st century dating. as such, this chapter is set a lot earlier in their relationship than the first.

**the tie on the door**

"I am going to do absolutely _unspeakable_ things to you, darling."

His husky growl behind her made her halt her climb up the stairs and she turned around to face him.

"You're all talk and no action," she quipped, smiling coyly.

"Ooo, you shall pay dearly for that, Swan," he said with a predatory grin.

She darted away when he tried to grab her, quickly climbing the last couple of steps, him hot on her heels.

She had been suffering through another boring day at the station when Hook had sauntered in. David had left to patrol only minutes earlier and Hook had managed to convince her to head over to the loft for some afternoon delight; or as he had put it, a midday tryst. She hadn't needed much convincing, not when he'd walked in looking like some sort of pirate sex god, all black leather and windswept hair that was just begging for fingers to be run through it. Her fingers to be exact.

Their relationship was still new at this point. Being with him was exciting and sometimes she felt like they were two horny teenagers the way they'd been going at it. She'd never had a lover like Hook before. He was attentive and beyond passionate, overwhelming every one of her senses. He knew exactly how to drive her crazy with just a single touch or caress and seemed to anticipate her every need. To say that the sex was mind blowing was probably a vast understatement.

Hook caught her around the waist only a few feet away from her door. He flipped her around and pressed her back into the wall outside of her apartment, his arousal evident as he closed the distance between their bodies.

"You're a bloody temptress, you are," he whispered heatedly in her ear. Giving it a quick nibble, he then moved down her neck, lavishing open mouthed kisses here and there while his hand occupied itself underneath her shirt. "Maybe I'll take you right here in the corridor so your neighbors can hear your moans of pleasure."

"Hook," she gasped, eyes rolling into the back of her head as he sucked on her pulse point. She wasn't sure if it was an encouragement or a warning, but he seemed to understand.

"Inside then," he agreed, stopping his assault on her neck. His fingers lingered on her back though, dancing down her spine causing her to shiver. "A horizontal surface is preferable for what I have in mind. I'm not picky; any one will suffice."

"Good thing the loft has several," Emma breathed, eagerly grabbing her keys out of her jacket pocket. He withdrew, allowing her to move to the door. When she went to put the key into the lock, however, she noticed something was hanging from the door knob. She slowly pulled it off the door, noting the silky texture with growing horror. It was, she determined, a neck tie.

_"So maybe next time you could put a tie on the door or send a text!"_

The conversation from more than a year ago echoed in her mind and realization surged through her like a bucket of cold water.

"Oh my god," she said, throwing the tie back on the door knob like it'd burned her. _Ew, ew, ew ew, EW_!

"Swan?" Hook asked, looking from her to the door in confusion. "Why aren't we going in?"

"David and Mary Margaret, my parents, they're inside," she stuttered out, completely mortified. "The tie," she said, pointing at it accusingly. "That's what it means."

"I fail to see the problem, love," he said, attempting to wrap his arms around her waist. "We exchange a few pleasantries and then we retire up to your bedchamber."

Emma shook her head, breaking away from him and his grabby hands. "No, you don't understand," she moaned. "My parents are inside, _in bed_. That's what the tie signifies." She couldn't _believe_ she was having to explain this to him right now.

"What kind of ludicrous ritual is this?" he asked, eyeing the tie with fascination.

"It's like roommate etiquette," Emma tried to explain, pacing the floor now. "Ugh, patrol my ass! David is getting all of the late shifts for at least two weeks because of this!"

"Are you certain they're in there?" he asked, leaning in towards the door. Almost immediately after he said it, a breathy moan sounded from within. Hook chuckled while Emma whimpered. "Atta boy, Dave," the former pirate said proudly.

"This isn't funny!" Emma hissed at him. "This, this is _mortifying._"

She shivered in a way that was completely different than how she had only minutes earlier and took off down the hallway.

"Wait, what about our little afternoon rendezvous?" Hook persisted, dogging her footsteps. "Come now, love, this is but a minor setback."

"Sorry, but I am_ so_ not in the mood anymore," Emma said, trudging back down the stairs.

"I could put you _back_ in the mood…"

"Not gonna happen, buddy."**  
**

* * *

**a/n:** thank you all for your lovely reviews, favorites, and follows! let me know what you think of this chapter :)


	3. the b word

**characters: **emma swan, killian jones  
**words: **1,700  
**summary: **hook finds the word 'boyfriend' rather lacking...

**a/n:** _a modern day courtship_ will be a collection of non-sequential drabbles centered on emma and killian navigating through 21st century dating. as such, this chapter is set a lot earlier in their relationship than the first.

**the b word**

"So, you and Captain Hook, huh?"

Emma dragged her feet in the gravel, effectively stopping her swing. "What?" she asked, hoping she'd heard her son wrong.

"Give me a little credit; I may be 12, but I'm not stupid," Henry said, pumping his legs back and forth to swing higher. "You two have been spending an awful lot of time together since we got back to Storybrooke. Is he your boyfriend?"

"Umm…" Emma stalled, chewing on her lip as she tried to decide what to say. She and Neal had sat him down only about a month earlier, explaining that while they loved him and would always love each other, they weren't in love and wouldn't be getting back together. Henry had borne his disappointment better than she'd expected, but Emma had no idea what he would think about her having another man in her life. "Would you be...okay with that?" she asked, absentmindedly shuffling her feet in the gravel underneath her swing.

"Sure," Henry said nonchalantly. He brightened up considerably after a moment. "Hey, do you think he'd teach me how to sail?"

A little part of her heart melted at his hopeful question. "I'm sure he'd love to," she told him. Another thought popped into her mind. "I'd cool it with the b-word in front of him, though."

"Why?"

"I don't know, he probably wouldn't get it," Emma shrugged. Did they even have the word 'boyfriend' in the Enchanted Forest?

"Well, there he is," Henry said suddenly. "Let's ask him."

Emma looked around and, sure enough, Hook was winding his way through the park towards them, quite the sight in his usual black leather. Henry gave her a innocent smile that was the spitting image of Neal, and if she didn't know any better, she would have thought he'd planned this.

"Uh, Henry—"

"Morning, Captain," her son greeted, still swinging back and forth enthusiastically.

"Morning, lad," Hook said, coming to rest up against the side of the swing set. His eyes flitted over to hers, and the smoldering look her gave her instantly reminded her of their heated kiss goodbye outside of her apartment the night before. "Swan."

"Hook."

Henry's eyes darted between them for a moment before settling on Hook. "So, Captain," he said, diving right in. "Would you call yourself my mom's boyfriend?"

Emma clenched her teeth together to keep herself silent. He'd definitely learned his lack of tact from Regina, that was for sure. She chanced a look at Hook. A perplexed expression had crossed his face and he raised an eyebrow at her before addressing Henry.

"Pardon me, lad," he started hesitantly. "Not quite sure what you mean. '_Boyfriend_?'"

"You know, you two are boyfriend and girlfriend," Henry tried to explain. "It means you're dating each other. _In a relationship._"

Hook opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something Emma probably wouldn't like, so she cut him off. "Henry, I think I hear David calling us," she said, leaping up from her swing.

Henry dragged his feet in the gravel, bringing his swing to a halt. He cocked his head, listening. "I don't hear anything."

"Yeah, well, you're 12, remember?" Emma said, ushering him up. "Your ears are still developing. Now, say goodbye to Captain Jones. I'll be along in a sec."

"Bye, Captain," Henry said glumly, trudging away.

"Bye, Henry," Hook called after him, keeping his eyes on Emma, amusement evident in his smile. "Been talking about me with your boy, Swan? All good things, I hope."

"He was the one who brought you up, not me," Emma told him, keeping an eye on her son as he waited for her just outside the park gate. "I gotta run. I'll see you later?"

Hook nodded, and she turned to follow the path that Henry had taken, glad that he wasn't bothering her about the 'boyfriend' thing.

"And Emma—" _Damn it_. "—We'll continuing this interesting conversation later, of that you can be sure."

She threw him a dirty look over her shoulder, which only made his grin grow wider.

* * *

Later turned out not to be until the next day. She was sitting in her office in the Sheriff's Station trying to catch up on paperwork when he strolled in.

"Afternoon, Sheriff," Hook greeted, stepping into her office and giving her a heart stopping smile.

"Hi," she said, unable to keep her own smile from forming.

He looked to and fro around the station and, not seeing anyone else, beckoned her to him. "Come, Swan, I've not been able to give you a proper kiss in days," he said, giving her a heated look. "It's enough to drive a man mad."

Emma rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but was secretly pleased by his words. She didn't go to him right away, holding up a finger signifying that she needed a minute, relishing in his impatience as he tapped on his belt buckle and watched her write the last sentence of her theft report. When she thought he'd waited long enough, she pushed back from her desk and made her way over to him. As soon as she was within his reach, Hook quickly drew her to him.

"About bloody time," he practically growled before crashing his lips down to hers.

She grasped the lapels of his coat, trying to keep up with him as he moved his lips and tongue eagerly against hers. She melted into his embrace, surrendering herself over to his touch. His hand fisted into her hair, fingers entangled within the strands, while his hook pressed against the small of her back, urging their bodies closer together. She dragged her teeth along his bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth and sucking on it relentlessly until he groaned, a deep guttural sound that made warmth pool in her belly. She broke away from him, sure that if they kept at it, he would have no qualms about taking her on her own desk.

"David could be back from lunch any minute," she said breathlessly, smoothing her hands down the front of his coat. "I really don't think he'd enjoy the sight of me making out with my—" She stopped mid sentence, glancing up at him wide-eyed to gauge whether or not he'd noticed her almost slip-up.

His delighted grin told her that he had. "You were going to say boyfriend, weren't you?"

"No."

Hook chuckled, stepping away from her to lean against wall. "I've been looking into this word, and my sources—"

"Excuse me, _sources_?" she interrupted. "Who are your sources exactly?"

He wavered for a moment before saying, "You know, love, perhaps the less you know, the better."

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, but chose not to pursue that line of questioning.

"Anyway, although I'm glad you're finally acknowledging our courtship, even if it's just to your son," he said, and she looked up at that, "I'm not sure how I feel about this term 'boyfriend.' Since I am neither a boy nor simply your friend, I find it rather...lacking."

"Oh, really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "I suppose you have suggestions as to what I should call you instead?"

"It just so happens that I've taken the liberty of compiling a list," Hook replied, procuring a piece of parchment from the inner pocket of his jacket.

"A list."

"Indeed, a list," he repeated. "These are terms I feel are more appropriate in regards to my relationship to you. Now, how do you feel about, suitor?"

"No."

"Beau."

"_Hell_ no."

"Paramour."

"Seriously?"

"Lover?" His accompanying suggestive eye wiggle did nothing to persuade her.

Emma shook her head.

"My Captain and/or The Captain."

"Okay, now you're just being ridiculous," she scoffed, grabbing the parchment from his hands and crumpling it up. "I've got one. How about _pain in the ass_?"

"I don't know, love. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it."

She emitted a frustrated noise. "Look, I know whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing is stupid and juvenile, and you're right that is doesn't quite capture what our relationship is," Emma said. "We're not in the Enchanted Forest anymore, though. All those words you just said haven't been used in centuries, so we're going to have to compromise." She paused, trying to come up with something that would satisfy them both. "What about something simple, like, partner?"

He stroked his chin contemplatively. "Hmmm, partner," he considered. A moment later he smiled. "I could make do with that. It implies that we're a team. And you know what I've said since the beginning…"

"That we make quite the team," Emma finished for him, unable to keep the soft smile off her face.

"Aye, that we do," Hook agreed, moving closer and wrapping his arms around her once again.

She pressed her cheek against his chest, reveling in the feeling of being held by him. He had this uncanny ability to make her feel safe and warm and loved, and maybe pre-Storybrooke Emma would have been terrified of that and headed straight for the hills, but he had displayed the depth of his love for her time and time again and she was no longer afraid of trusting him with her heart. Truthfully, she didn't care what she called him as long as she could call him 'mine.'

"Just a heads up though, Henry's probably still going to call you my boyfriend."

"Perhaps if I share my list with him—"

"Don't you dare."

"As you wish."

* * *

**a/n:** hope you all liked this one! I've been blown away by all your reviews! Thank you so much! The next chapters called **the dog house**. :)


	4. the doghouse

**summary**_**:** _emma puts killian in the doghouse.

**a/n:** _a modern day courtship_ is a non-linear collection of drabbles centered on emma and killian navigating through 21st century dating. thanks for all your reviews and favorites and follows! i'm so glad you all are liking these little one shots.

**the doghouse**

"A cup of coffee, if you'd please, love."

Killian rubbed his eyes tiredly as he slumped onto a stool at the counter of Granny's, struggling and failing to contain his yawn, which only served to make him wince at the pain in his chin.

"Make that two, Ruby," a voice said behind him, and Killian turned at the waist to see David sliding into the seat next to him, looking irritatingly awake and chipper. "You look terrible, Jones. Rough night?"

Killian rubbed his sore jaw, mustering up the coolest glare he could to direct at the prince. "Morning to you, too, mate," he bit out. "I suppose you've heard then?"

David grinned. "Who hasn't?" he said, nodding his thanks to Ruby as she set two steaming cups of coffee in front of them.

Killian decided to test David's theory. "Lass," he said nonchalantly, stopping the she-wolf turned serving girl from walking away. "You haven't by any chance heard about—"

Ruby cut him off with a snort. "Oh yeah," she said. "It's all over town."

"How is that possible?" Killian asked incredulously. "This only just occured last night!"

Ruby shrugged. "Small town," she offered him. "The dwarves were there, and we all know how much they love to gossip."

She flounced off, long, raven hair streaming behind her, leaving Killian to hang his head in misery. David patted him on the back encouragingly, though Killian rather thought he was delighting in his despair.

A tinkling of bells caught their attention and they both turned to the diner's front door just as Emma strolled in, and maybe it was only because he knew what to look for that he saw the dark bags under her eyes and the tense set of her jaw. Their eyes met immediately across the room, and she stalled fleetingly before continuing her path to the counter.

"One hot chocolate with cinnamon, please, Ruby," she said, keeping her gaze firmly ahead of her. "To go."

"Morning, sweetheart," David greeted, leaning over to kiss his daughter's temple.

"Morning," she replied shortly, managing a slight smile for him.

Killian cleared his throat, pasting on his most charming and apologetic smile. "Morning, love," he said, casting a hopeful look past David to Emma. "You're looking particularly beautiful this morning, my darl—"

"Thanks, Ruby," Emma said, ignoring him and handing her some money. "Keep the change."

Without another word to either of them, Emma grabbed her hot chocolate and took off. David let out a low whistle as the door slammed shut after her, and all Killian could do was gape at the back of her golden head as she disappeared from sight.

Well, that's not all he could do. Killian got to his feet, ignoring the dull ache in his head, and gestured to his coffee.

"Dave, can you—?"

David waved him off. "Go, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, mate."

He was out the door and following swiftly after Emma in seconds. Gods, he knew she'd be right royally ticked off. She'd shut the door to her apartment pretty harshly in his face the night before, and although he could have probably broken in, he wouldn't have dared to. No, she'd made it perfectly clear that he wasn't welcome in her apartment, let alone her bed, that night, so he'd been forced to spend the night on the Jolly Roger for the first time in months. He'd tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep without his Swan in his arms, not to mention the pounding in his head. The long hour before dawn had been spent staring up at the ceiling of his cabin, mentally berating himself for being the biggest sodding idiot in all the realm. He'd realized then that fixing this would be difficult, but he hadn't been prepared for how difficult.

He turned the corner, following what he knew was Emma's normal route to the station, and spied her just ahead, charging down the street. He sprinted ahead, not caring a whit for the townespeope who looked at him anxiously, and called out her name when he got close enough.

"Swan!"

Her whole body tensed and she paused briefly before striding forward, even more determinedly than before. He shook his head and continued after her until he'd finally caught up, maneuvering until he was in front of her, staying her path.

"Emma," he tried, and she attempted to dart around him. Killian, truly at the end of his rope, had no choice but to grab her wrist to keep her from leaving him.

The glare she sent him nearly tore his heart in two. She'd not looked at him like that, with such disdain and anger in her eyes, in quite a long time, and he'd hoped to never see that look directed at him ever again.

"Let go," she hissed through gritted teeth.

He switched his grip so that he was holding her hand rather than her wrist. He gripped it like a lifeline, imploring her with his eyes to hear him out.

"Please, love," he pleaded. "I'm sorry. Just talk to me. Let me explain."

She stared at him hard with narrowed eyes, but Killian could see the indecision swirling in their depths. Finally, she sighed, looking away from him and out across the town.

"You have exactly two minutes."

He mustered up a small, hopeful smile and released her hand. She looked back at him expectantly and he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously as he tried to determine what to say, how to account for his behavior. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off almost immediately.

"No, you know what, I changed my mind," Emma said fiercely, eyes flashing. "I'm gonna talk and you're gonna listen.—Do you have _any idea_ how embarrassing it is as the sheriff of this town to be called to break up a bar fight involving your own_ boyfriend_?"

_Partner_, Killian thought idly, still bristling at that word, but now was not the time. He kept his eyes on hers, though all he wanted to do was hang his head in shame.

"I don't know what the hell you and Robin were thinking last night," Emma snapped. "What, were you two just looking for a good fight? Did those guys look at you two funny or something? One of them insult the Jolly Roger? Because I literally can't think of a single plausible excuse for you to lay your hands on anyone. You're lucky they decided not to press charges."

Killian remained silent. He couldn't tell her why he'd gotten in the fight and that was part of the problem. But the men's words had been ringing in his ears all morning. To insult him was one thing, he could handle that easy. Insult his love, however, his Swan who had so much taken from her and so much weight placed on his shoulders, that was something else entirely. Something he wouldn't and couldn't stand for. And maybe he'd had a little too much to drink, but the sound of the imbecile who'd slandered his Swan's nose breaking had been music to his ears.

"I'm sorry, love," he finally said. "Believe me when I say that I had my reasons. I'm not proud of what happened, but you know that I would never want to do anything to jeopardize your position as sheriff."

"You had your reasons," Emma echoed. She studied him with those piercing green eyes of hers and Killian couldn't help it, he was forced to look away. Emma laughed, a harsh and hollow sound to his ears. "And you don't want to tell me them. Perfect."

"Emma—"

"No, it's fine," she insisted, her lips twisting into a bitter smile that was like a dagger to his heart. "You know, I wish I could say I saw something like this coming, but I didn't. I'd naively thought that you had changed."

"I have, you know I have," Killian said desperately, and he sought her hand again, but she moved out of his reach, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Don't," she warned. She closed her eyes tightly, taking a calming breath, and when she opened them she looked so tired and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and beg her forgiveness. "Just, I need some time. Time to figure things out."

"Figure things out?" Killian repeated uneasily. He felt all the blood drain out of his face. What did that mean?

Emma swallowed and looked away. "I have to go to work," she said, and then just like that she was walking away from him, not looking back. He felt the dagger in his heart twist cruelly.

Killian heard footsteps come up behind him and stop at his side, and without even looking, he knew it was David. The Prince watched his daughter's retreating form with an inscrutable expression before turning to Killian and clapping his hand encouragingly on his shoulder.

"She'll come around," he said confidently.

Killian shook his head, looking down at his boots. "You didn't hear her," he told him.

"But I know my daughter," David countered. "She's angry and embarrassed , and rightfully so, but she loves you; she won't keep you in the doghouse for very long."

"The doghouse?" Killian asked with only mild interest. He peered up again to see that Emma had disappeared around the corner, taking all hopes of reconciliation with her.

"Uh, it's an expression from this land," David tried to explain. "It means you're out of her favor, you're on the outs for the moment."

"I see," Killian said, though he wasn't quite sure where canines came in. "And how do I get out of this doghouse, so to speak?"

"Thankfully, this land has many ideas," David said. "Come, Emma won't expect me for another half hour. That gives us time enough to go to the flower shop."

"Not that I mind, mate, but why are you helping me?" Killian asked, following after the man. He hadn't expected Dave to side with him over his own daughter.

"You're Emma's true love." Charming shrugged, as if it were as simple as that, and maybe for him it was. "Even if you weren't, in the short time I've been a part of her life, I've never seen Emma as happy as when she's with you. I would do anything to preserve that happiness, and if that means helping you get back on her good side, so be it."

"Thank you," Killian said, meeting his gaze sincerely. "I really mean it, mate, thanks."

David waved his words away and began plotting how to get Killian back in Emma's good graces. As they walked Killian could feel his confidence growing. He would do his very best to convince Emma that he was sorry even if he had to beg on his hands and knees for her forgiveness. He would give her a couple days to cool off, and then he was going to lay it on his Swan so thick that she would have no choice but to accept his apology. After all, he had come too far and been through too much with her to give up at the first sign of strife in their relationship.

_tbc_

**a/n: **sorry for the angst! the next chapter will be **the make-up** :) please review!


	5. the make up

**summary: **can killian get emma to forgive him after their fight?

**a/n:** _a modern day courtship_ is a non-linear collection of drabbles centered on emma and killian navigating through 21st century dating.

**the make up**

"Another delivery for you, Sheriff."

Something between a groan and a growl escaped Emma's mouth, and she reluctantly looked up at Mr. French who held a huge bouquet of daisies in his hands. "Put it with the others, I guess," she sighed, gesturing to the dozens of vases that had invaded her office over the course of the day. "I don't know how he put you up to this, Mr. French."

"When a man pays you in gold coins as big as your palm," the florist said, squeezing the daisies in between some tiger lilies and tulips, "You tend to do as he asks."

"Right," Emma said dryly. "Well, if that's all..."

"It is for now," he said, giving her a look that pointedly meant he'd be back.

This was getting out of hand.

"Wow, he's really laying it on thick, isn't he?" Mary Margaret said when she walked into her office near the end of Emma's shift. Mr. French had returned no less than seven times and each time with a bouquet that was bigger than the last. Her mother leaned closer to the latest delivery, a bouquet of red roses the florist had set on her desk, and inhaled their scent, humming appreciatively. "You know, David probably helped him come up with this. He was big into apology flowers when he knew he'd done something wrong."

"Glad to know their bromance hasn't taken a hit."

Mary Margaret gave her a half-amused, half-scolding look, before turning her attention back to the flowers. Her forehead crinkled in confusion as she scanned each arrangement. "Emma, none of these cards have been opened."

"That's 'cause, I haven't read any of them," she answered matter-a-factly, busying herself with organizing her paperwork.

"Emma…" Her tone was definitely scolding now, and it looked for a second like she was going to launch into lecture mode, but surprisingly she held her tongue.

"I'm not just going to forget what happened because he went out and bought half the flower shop," she seethed, and Mary Margaret nodded politely. Emma narrowed her eyes at her, feeling her puffed up anger seep out of her. "What, no words of motherly wisdom?" she finally asked.

"Very funny."

"No, I'm actually being serious," Emma said haltingly, looking down at her desk to avoid Mary Margaret's eyes. "Do you...think I'm overreacting about this thing with Killian?"

Mary Margaret pursed her lips slightly, and took the seat across from her. "You want the truth?" she asked. Emma nodded, looking up, and she wiggled her head from side to side in indecisive contemplation. "Maybe just like a teensy bit?"

Emma groaned pathetically, head falling down onto her desk. It had been about a day and a half since she'd told Killian she needed time to figure things out, and she was no closer to doing so than she'd been then. She'd just been so angry and disappointed and embarrassed. The man was maddening, and she could never do halfway with her emotions when it came to him. Everything she felt seemed to be magnified tenfold when he was around, mostly in a good way, but her irritation the other night had turned into full blown fury quickly.

Her mother patted her head sympathetically. "I just think you're being a little hard on him," she said tentatively. "He's been a model citizen since settling down in Storybrooke. One little fight shouldn't change that."

Emma peeked up at her with a shrewd look. "When did you become Killian's champion?"

"Since I saw how good he is for you," Mary Margaret said, a soft smile gracing her face. "You smile more, you laugh more. He makes you happy, and that's all I've ever wanted for you, Emma."

Her throat grew tight at her mother's words, but she managed a small smile. "He does make me happy," she admitted, unconsciously gripping the anchor pendant he'd given her that she wore around her neck. "I love him. And he's never given me a reason to doubt him since we've been together. It's just, when I asked him what the fight was about, he wouldn't tell me."

"He had to have had a good reason," Mary Margaret reassured her. "He loves you too much to throw it all away over something that wasn't." Her mother put her hand over Emma's on top of her desk. "I'm not saying let him completely off the hook," she said, grinning at her little pun, making Emma roll her eyes, "But don't make a hasty decision over what was probably a mistake."

Mary Margaret left soon after that, saying she had to pick up Emma's little brother from daycare. Before she left, however, she plucked the little white envelope from the roses on Emma's desk and handed it to her, urging her to read at least one of the cards before deciding what she was going to do. Emma stared down at the envelope in her hand, feeling her resolve to stay angry beginning to cave. She slid a finger hesitantly underneath the seal, breaking it, and took out the card inside.

_I'm sorry._

_I love you._

_Please come to the Jolly Roger tonight. 7 o'clock._

_~K_

A quick peek at the envelopes around her proved to be much of the same. He was sorry. He loved her (more than he loved anything in all the realms, one card proclaimed) along with a plea for her to come to his ship that evening. A quick glance at the clock told her there was about an hour and a half until 7.

Emma slumped down into her chair, leaning her cheek into her fist, staring down at the little white cards scattered on top of her desk. She couldn't deny that she'd been miserable since their fight, had spent much of the previous night moping around the loft in sweatpants, eating straight from a tub of ice cream, and watching Law and Order reruns. She'd alternated between being furious and being hurt before deciding that being furious was easier. So, did she go home to an empty apartment and wallow in her embarrassment and angry again, perhaps with a glass (or a bottle, more likely) of wine? Or did she go and hear him out?

Emma turned both options over in her mind, her eyes being drawn to one of the white cards. She smoothed the tips of her fingers over his surprisingly elegant penmanship. _I'm sorry. I love you._

She pursed her lips for a moment before making a split second decision, her hand reaching for the phone on her desk, dialing a number she knew by heart.

"Hey, Regina, it's Emma...No, I didn't call to talk to Henry, actually. Is Robin around?"

* * *

The sun was setting by the time she arrived at the bottom of the Jolly Roger's gangplank, the sky over Storybrooke awash in colors. She had arrived purposefully late, maybe about ten minutes, and as she crept up the ramp, she couldn't stop herself from nervously fidgeting with her hair. Emma paused at the top of the gangplank, her eyes widening as she took in the scene on the deck below. There were candles everywhere, big and small, their flames flickering in the light, spring breeze. A red and white checkered blanket lay on the lower deck along with a picnic basket, two wine glasses, and two candles. And between those two candles, another dozen red roses. Her mouth fell open as she surveyed the little setup, and, she would never admit it later, but there may have been a tear or two in her eyes.

A quiet sigh drew her attention to the starboard side of the ship. Her pirate stood, back to her, looking away from the beauty of the sunset, his head hung dejectedly. He'd foregone his great coat for only his shirtsleeves and his red vest, the color matching the flowers on the picnic blanket. She hesitated only for a moment before making her presence known.

"Hi."

His head swung up and around so fast, Emma was surprised he didn't get whiplash. She only caught a glimpse of the morose expression on his face before it was replaced by a smile that was a mix of pure happiness and relief.

"Swan," Killian breathed, quickly moving across the ship to her. "You're here." He stretched out his hand as if to embrace her, before rethinking it and dropping his arms to his sides. "I, uh, I wasn't sure if you were going to come," he said, his smile fading, making the worry lines etched on his forehead stand out prominently.

"Yeah, well, maybe I wanted you to sweat it out for just a little bit," Emma said, giving him a dry look.

Killian ducked his head, shooting a rueful smile to the deck. "I deserve that, I suppose," he admitted, scratching the back of his ear like she'd seen him do a hundred times when he was worried or nervous. His eyes fell on hers, the blue as striking as always in their solemnity and earnestness. He inched closer until he was only an arms length away. "You are here, though," he murmured, an optimistic note in his tone. "Does this mean I'm to be forgiven?"

"That depends," Emma told him. "Are you going to go around picking fights with every person in this town who says a word against me?"

Killian's eyes widened, his whole body jerking upright. "How—Who—?" he stuttered.

"Robin," she supplied. His face became like thunder, and he half looked ready to go run his hook through his mate. "Don't be mad, I wheedled it out of him. And it's a good thing I did or I may not have even come tonight."

Killian sighed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. "I don't know what he told you, love, but—"

Emma shook her head, moving closer to him. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Look, it's...sweet that you think you need to defend my honor and all that, but you of all people should know that I don't need anyone fighting my battles for me."

"Aye, I know," he said quietly. He shook his head to himself. "I let my temper get the best of me, bloody fool that I am. I truly am sorry, love."

"I'm sorry, too," she returned, knowing it was the right thing to do when he looked up at her in surprise. "I was embarrassed and angry and I overreacted. I should have known better than to accuse you of being up to no good. You're not the same man you were when you first came to Storybrooke."

Killian smiled at her words, a smile which she reciprocated, and she slid her hand into his, squeezing gently as she turned her attention to the picnic setup on the deck below.

"Did you do all this by yourself?" she asked him. The sun had finally set, darkness falling around them. The candles burned brightly though, illuminating the romantic little scene.

"I may have had a little assistance from your father," he admitted, leading her down the steps and over the blanket. "But the idea was mine alone. Milady," he said, gesturing for her to sit. He helped her down before joining her.

"Were the flowers your idea, too?" she asked wryly.

He snorted in amusement. "David's actually," he said. "Am I to take it from your tone that you didn't like them?"

"Oh no, they were beautiful," she assured him. "I was just a little unprepared for my office to be turned into a greenhouse overnight."

Killian's cheeks took on a slight color. "I may have gone overboard," he confessed.

Emma smiled at him. "Maybe just a little bit," she teased, but reached over and gripped his hand. "Thank you," she said sincerely because the truth was, no one had ever bought her flowers and here was this man who had endeavored to win her heart and had done so in every way imaginable. She couldn't picture her life without him at this point and she didn't even want to try.

He gripped her hand back, eyes shining with happiness in the flickering candlelight. "Anything for you, darling," he said, kissing the back of her palm reverently.

He reluctantly let go to grab a bottle of red wine from inside the picnic basket. Pulling the cork out expertly with his teeth, he poured a generous amount of wine in each glass.

Emma raised her glass in the air and he mirrored her. "To making up," she said, and he echoed it as they clinked their glasses together.

They sipped their wine, enjoying the cool spring breeze that made the Jolly Roger rock gently in its mooring. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders now that the air between them was clear. She couldn't stop looking over at him, and he gazed right back, a smile lingering around his lips.

"So, does this mean I'm out of the proverbial 'doghouse', as your father is fond of calling it?" Killian asked playfully.

Emma laughed and took a second to teasingly contemplate, laying a finger on her chin. "Hmm, I guess so," she finally conceded.

"Good," Killian said, a hungry look in his eyes now, one that she was pretty sure had nothing to do with whatever food was in the picnic basket. He hastily set aside his glass, taking hers out of her hand and doing the same. "Because I have bloody missed you, love." He cupped the back of her head, drawing her face to his, and their lips met in a long, passionate kiss; tongues clashing, teeth clanging, noses smashing, until finally both pulled back, chests heaving as their lungs sought air.

"You know," Emma panted, gripping the collar of his shirtsleeves, a fiery need growing in her belly. "The next best thing to making up is the makeup sex."

Killian pushed his forehead against hers, sliding his hook up her back, sending shivers down her spine. "I'm afraid I'm new to this realm, Swan, you might have to explain this concept to me."

Emma breathed out a laugh. "I think I can _show_ you much better than I can tell you."

"Then, by all means, sweetheart…"

* * *

**a/n: **I am soooo, sorry it's been so long since I updated this! It was my birthday and then I moved to a new apartment, yadda yadda yadda, and I'm just a lazy person in general. Thank you all so much for all your reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! A big thank you, THANK YOU, _**THANK YOU**_, to whoever voted for me for the CS Awards Favorite Fluff Multichapter! I was so floored to see I'd won! I am also all ears about any future vignettes for this fic. I've got a couple more in my head, but I'd love to see what you guys would like to see. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :)


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